


There's Probably A Word For It

by borealowl



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Also there's a cat, Fluff, M/M, mostly just fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-18
Updated: 2019-06-18
Packaged: 2020-05-13 22:15:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19260205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/borealowl/pseuds/borealowl
Summary: If you ask Crowley and Aziraphale about their feelings for each other, you're unlikely to get a satisfying answer. But after a minor traffic accident (Crowley's fault) and an overly spicy lunch (also Crowley's fault), maybe they can figure it out.Just some happy fluff that came out of me imagining what it would look like if Crowley was trying to cause mayhem to get Aziraphale's attention.Post-apocalypse. Book canon but TV characterization, if that makes sense.





	There's Probably A Word For It

*****

 

If one were to ask Aziraphale what he thinks of Crowley, the conversation might go something like this:

“I love him, of course.”

_You what?_

“I love him, just as I love all creation.”

_Yes, but, a demon?_

“Himself created us all, and loves us all. How could I do any different?”

_So, you love everyone._

“Why, yes.”

_Even demons._

“Yes.”

_Even people who break the spines of their books and dog-ear the pages._

A deep breath. Perhaps a muscle twitch.

“I am sure that they are capable of redemption. But perhaps it is for the best that I no longer carry my sword.”

_So, back to Crowley._

“Well, he’s a demon, but I firmly believe that there is a spark of good within him.”

_Last week he lured a cat into rush hour traffic and caused a five-car pileup._

“Yes, that was rather wicked of him, wasn’t it? Fortunately no one was harmed.”

_Wasn’t there an ambulance that couldn’t get past the accident?_

“Well, yes, but the baby was delivered safely, and everyone around was filled with a sense of awe at the miracle of life. I received a small commendation from Upstairs for it.”

_Was that because you saved them?_

“Oh, no. I just happened to be passing through. But it was very gratifying to receive positive feedback. They’ve been rather uncommunicative of late.”

_We’re getting off topic again. I was asking how you felt about Crowley._

“I’m sorry, but I really must be going. I’m late for my lunch appointment.”

 

If you asked Crowley how he felt about Aziraphale, the conversation would be a bit shorter.

“He’s the enemy. Thwarts all my work, I thwart his, you know how it goes. I had a wonderful traffic accident going, just lovely, and he messed it up.”

_You don’t even like him a little bit?_

“Nothing but contempt for the enemy! Now piss off, I’m meeting someone for lunch and I need to be just the right amount of late.”

*****

Of course, one is unlikely to have the opportunity to ask these questions, but if the chance should somehow arise, the interviewer should keep in mind that Aziraphale is an angel, and thus cannot lie, but he may be evasive. Crowley, being a demon, has no such compunctions.

*****

Aziraphale had been waiting at the restaurant for about ten minutes when Crowley arrived. The demon was fuming. “Just what did you mean, messing with my traffic accident?”

Aziraphale blinked. “I was simply walking by!”

“That’s exactly what I mean! Why did you have to walk by while I was working?”

Aziraphale’s confusion deepened. “Crowley, my bookshop is a block away. Why were you causing traffic accidents right next to my shop?”

The perfectly innocent question stopped Crowley mid-fume. He’d grown out of the habit of lying to Aziraphale over the past 6000 or so years, but telling the truth was out of the question. “It seemed like a good way of getting your attention” was not likely to have the desired effect. Not that there was a desired effect. He didn't desire anything.

“And Crowley,” Aziraphale continued, unaware of Crowley’s inner conflict, “ _must_ you cause such havoc? That poor cat must have been very disturbed.”

Crowley waved a dismissive hand. “Eh, the cat was in on it. Amazing what the little bastards will do for a can of tuna.” The cat had in fact driven a harder bargain, but Crowley was not going to admit that he’d spent all afternoon teaching a tabby to use an electric can-opener.

“Anyway, no one was seriously hurt.” _That_ had taken some work, but once Crowley had realized that he had succeeded in getting Aziraphale’s attention with his stunt, he’d panicked. He could just picture that grave, disappointed look in the angel’s eyes, and his worried expression as he tried his best to miracle away any injuries. And then Aziraphale might get in trouble for overuse of miracles, and that was unacceptable. Even after the Apocalypse that Wasn’t, the angel still got so sad whenever he received a scolding from Upstairs, and seeing him sad was even worse than seeing him disappointed.

So Crowley had used a bit of demonic power to make sure that there was nothing worse than some bruises and dents. Sure, it wasn’t the same as a major traffic accident, but just wait until it was time to file the insurance claims! Crowley had swapped a few license plates and stolen an insurance card, and the resulting disputes were going to make months to untangle. That should be enough to make up for any trouble from Downstairs about the rest of it.

Aziraphale was nodding. “Yes, it was very fortunate that there were no other injuries. I was quite worried about that young woman.”

Crowley shuddered. “I know. That’s why I went to check on her.” The woman had been well into labor when he looked in the ambulance, and the paramedics lightly concussed. He’d seriously considered just running away at that point, but, again, those sad and disappointed eyes. He shuddered again. “Humans are so…wet.”

Aziraphale’s shy smile almost made that memory worth it. “It was very impressive. I hear that she named the baby after you.”

With effort, Crowley suppressed another shudder. “I am never going near another baby again. They are nothing but trouble.” Little Antonia Crowley Beene was going to have to make her own way in the world.

Aziraphale’s smile was replaced with a furrowed brow. “Oh dear, I do hope you’re not upset that I sent the baby and her mother a gift basket. I signed both our names to it, because I thought you might want to share the credit.”

Some days, a demon just couldn’t win. “It’s fine, angel. Look, our food is coming.”

*****

Aziraphale watched Crowley add extra spoonfuls of pepper sauce to his chicken larb. The demon had seemed a little restless and unhappy lately, moreso than usual, and he was worried. He was also a little bit worried about his worry—did universal love extend to caring about the moods of the enemy?—but the angel was mostly resigned to his feelings for his…friend. Yes, they were enemies, but also colleagues of a sort, and that meant they could also be friends. So it was in the spirit of friendly inquiry that he asked,

“Crowley, is everything all right? First you invite me to lunch, then when I arrive you snap at me. Is something wrong?”

The demon scowled. “Everything’s fine. I’m fine, you’re fine, it’s just, ARGH!”

Aziraphale began to stand up in concern, but Crowley waved him back down. “This stuff is really spicy!”

“Yes, this place is famous for its authentic Laotian food. That’s why I ordered everything extra mild.”

“Ugh, I thought you were being… ugh, never mind, let’s just go.”

Crowley paid the bill on their way out, knowing that if he didn’t, Aziraphale would, and look at him reproachfully.

Outside, Aziraphale still looked at him with concern. “Are you sure you’re all right? I don’t just mean the food, Crowley, you’ve seemed upset lately.”

“I’m fine, it’s just—look, can we go talk somewhere? And not the park, there’s too many people.”

“You’re always welcome in my bookstore.”

Crowley shook his head, “Whatever circle you drew in there has saturated the place with holiness. Until it dissipates, I can’t breathe in there.” That was part of the problem, he suspected. He hadn’t been able to just drop in on the angel whenever he wanted anymore, and that had lead to poorly-considered antics like the traffic accident. “Come over to my place, angel. I’ll show you my plants.”

*****

After admiring what was a truly impressive indoor garden, Aziraphale looked around. “Crowley, was there holy water spilled over there? I can feel it from here! Tell me you weren’t being reckless with it!”

“I was exceedingly careful. My insurance worked exactly as planned. I don’t suppose you can get me another bottle?”

“I-I don’t know. Do you truly need it?”

He turned to look at Crowley. The demon was pacing around, tension in every line of his body. “My dear friend, whatever is the matter?”

“Nothing!” snapped Crowley, who immediately regretted his response when the angel’s face fell.

“And here I thought you wouldn’t lie to me” sighed Aziraphale. “Why did you bring me here if you didn’t want to talk? Just to ask me for more holy water?”

“No!” Crowley stopped pacing and turned to face him. “There’s enough holiness everywhere! My place stinks of it, your shop stinks of it, it’s everywhere I go!”

Aziraphale stiffened. “If you’re that upset about holiness, I can go.”

“Argh! No!” Crowley stomped over to him and grabbed his shoulders with both hands. “Look. I. You. You were gone. You were gone and your shop was on fire and I thought I might never see you again. Or if I did see you again it would be in the final battle, at the other end of a flaming sword.”

“I don’t actually have the sword anymore, you know that.”

“I know! But, but, but! I’d gotten used to our arrangement! But now we don’t have to work together on the whole Antichrist thing, and I don’t even know if you want me around!” He let go of Aziraphale’s shoulders and stepped back.

The angel looked at him, considering. Then he reached out and gently removed Crowley’s glasses, folded them neatly, tucked them in his front pocket, set both hands lightly on the demon’s shoulders, and looked him in the eyes.

“Crowley. Of course I want you around. You’re my best friend.”

The snake eyes widened in surprise, then narrowed as he gave Aziraphale a long appraising look. To his delight, the angel smiled and even started to blush. Having just displayed what felt like a serious lapse of cool, Crowley saw the opportunity to turn the tables. He leaned in, bringing his face closer to the angel’s. “Just friends? After all these years?” The angel’s blush deepened, and Crowley smiled his best evil grin. His lips inches from the angel’s, he said, “Am I still going too fast for you?”

Then, to Crowley’s utter shock, Aziraphale leaned forward and closed the distance between them, brushing his lips lightly across the demon’s. His perfect grin vanished from his face, and his stupid body—why did he need an earthly body, anyway—ran hot, leaving his face even redder than Aziraphale’s.

The angel, still pink, but wearing a smile somewhere between satisfied and smug, straightened up and smoothed down his jacket. “Maybe a little fast, but I’ll catch up in the end.”

He headed toward the front door, then turned back to Crowley. “I’ll air the shop out tonight, so you can stop by any time.”

Aziraphale was halfway down the block when he realized that he still had Crowley’s glasses. Oh well. He wasn’t going to ruin a perfect exit to bring them back, not when he knew Crowley had an inexhaustible supply of backups.

It took Crowley a little longer to notice, but that was fine. 

*****

If one could travel back to the Fall and watch cast-down angels scream their rage at the heavens, there would be no need to ask either side how they felt about each other. Even if the snake-eyed demon seemed more regretful than angry, and even if the wielder of the flaming sword seemed more worried than righteous, there was a void between Heaven and Hell and no way across.

After seven days, after six thousand years, the void was gone, and something else in its place. There’s probably a word for it. No, not ineffable. A thing. Bridge? Earth? Humanity? Love?

Whatever the thing, it probably is something ineffable. It’s something, anyway. The two of them will figure it out eventually.


End file.
